


Linked

by Shayheyred



Category: Death Note
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shayheyred/pseuds/Shayheyred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The chain is not what connects them</p>
            </blockquote>





	Linked

**Author's Note:**

> _Death Note_ , in brief:  
> Light Yagami is a brilliant student,a perfect son, whose life changes when he finds a notebook dropped by a _shinigami_ \-- a god of death. If a person's name is written in the book, he dies. Light, as the unseen "Kira," sets about reshaping the world by dispensing terminal justice to criminals, and eventually to those who try to stop him.  
>  L is a genius detective who takes on the task of capturing and stopping him.
> 
> * * *

From the first, he is loved.

He is born into a family of comfortable means, a much-adored first child. His gifts are many. A natural scholar, as bright as his name, he is soon bored by schoolwork. His looks attract many admirers, so many so that in time they become a faceless clump, all of them easily discardable.

He succeeds at everything he attempts.

He is polite, and charming, a pleasant young man with a bright future. He sleeps easily at night.

He is Light Yagami, and he is a sociopath.

* * *

From the first, he is rejected.

He rarely cries, but stares unblinking at the world, his infant's gaze freakishly intense. His mother fears him. He is too clever by half, too talented for normal classrooms; when at last he is taken to live with other geniuses, he scarcely notices the change.

He succeeds at everything he attempts.

He has no manners, no social graces. He knows nothing of how to live. He rarely sleeps, for his mind does not shut down easily.

He is L, and in his own way, he is as twisted as Light.

* * *

Each has the measure of the other. Each has his secrets.

* * *

Light has but one secret, huge and bright, encompassing all others; everything he does is done in service to it. His life of brilliance and boredom has brought him to this point, and he loves the control his secret exerts over the world.

There is but one person he cannot control, and the knowledge of that eats at him like battery acid.

He peers at L through the corner of his eye: shaggy hair, bare feet, rumpled clothing, unblinking stare like a trapdoor spider anticipating the moment to spring. _How much do you still suspect me, L? How can I defeat you?_ But lately he senses more to his interest. It's that which gives Light the first thrill of fear he has ever felt.

* * *

L has many secrets, furtive monsters born in a dark past and nurtured by a life spent in his head. They are secrets L has spent his adult life trying not to remember, because they might drive him madder than he already is.

In L's mind's eye he can see Light clearly – the tilt of his eyes, his tidy clothing, the way the corner of his mouth quirks up nearly into a smirk when he thinks L isn't watching. He feels Light's intelligence as if it were a scalpel against his own flesh. And L thinks _what is it I don't yet know about you, Light Yagami?_ L doesn't _know_ Light is Kira, though he stubbornly resists the urge to give up that minute percentage that says it could be true. But there's something about the neat, brilliant college student that compels his attention.

He is not frightened by Kira; if it is his time to die and he cannot avoid it, he will accept his fate. But L has begun to be afraid of _Light_ , and that is the most dangerous secret of all.

* * *

Neither can get any rest from the other, for L and Light are bound not just by the ties of the Kira investigation, but by steel. A chain links them together, allowing them four feet of distance and no more. The cuffs on their wrists – L's left one, Light's right – aren't tight, but they are a constant reminder of their connection. Not that either needs the chain to understand how closely they are linked.

* * *

The cuffs are light, and lined with soft fabric, but L chafes under the restraint. Light moves, and each tug against L's wrist rubs him raw, renders him uneasy. Impossible; can he really _smell_ the sharp electric odor of steel as the links rub together? The soft clink-clink-clink of metal against metal raises the hair all over his body. Suddenly there is too much sensation. L reaches for his usual barriers, but finds he can't raise them, and this sudden vulnerability is…

…oddly _arousing_.

 _Unexpected._ He shifts subtly in his chair before the monitor, to ease the pressure on his groin. _Peculiar. Interesting._

* * *

Light feels the cuff as if it were clamped about his throat and not his hand. He's left-handed, so the chain does not interfere with his use of the keyboard, and the lining inside the cuffs is soft. But lately he can barely breathe, aware as he is of each pull as L shifts in his seat.

_Careful now, careful. He'll notice your change of breath. Those things register with L; he'll suspect something. He'll suspect you. He'll suspect you of…_

L moves suddenly and electricity sparks through Light, surprising him, frightening him, especially when the tingle comes to rest between his legs. _No – no, no! What is this? Why am I—?_

"Light," says the soft voice to his right. "I…" L's whisper is tight, as if he, too, were being strangled by the chain. "I need to take a break."

"But—" Light frowns, and then stops himself. If L goes somewhere, he goes, too. Even at night, when they sleep, or pretend to sleep, they do so in beds only a few feet apart. L has given him freedom, but the freedom is a lie. _Better not to make a fuss. Protest only as much as an innocent would protest. Then go along with L, because that's what you should do. Besides, if L is sleeping, you can be free to plan your next move. If he thinks you're resting, maybe you can—_

"Come on." There is a tug at the cuff, and Light feels the electric charge again.

_Peculiar._

* * *

Light follows L to the elevator. They don't speak. They don't make eye contact. Something crackles between them, like static from an untuned radio.

Their chamber is furnished luxuriously, but neither has taken notice. Both are aware, however, of the cameras and sound monitors spread throughout the suite, L because he had them installed, Light because he knows L would have had them put there. The bathroom is the only place not under supervision.

Which is why, when they enter the suite, L yanks Light into the bathroom and kicks the door shut behind them.

* * *

Light thinks he should be surprised – isn't that what L would expect of him? He, the virtuous college student, shining light of the Yagami family, perfect son, perfect student, neat of clothing and demeanor – he should react with surprise, if not shock, to L shoving him up against the tile wall and pressing against him. Should he not appear scandalized, or horrified, or angered as L presses a thigh between his and begins to rub their groins together? Shouldn't he turn away as L starts to maul his mouth and scrabble franticly at Light's belt?

Perhaps Light should react that way – shove L away, punch him in the face; it wouldn't be the first time they've come to blows. But Light doesn't do any of those things, because the electric jolt that was merely a thrill before is now jangling through his his entire being, body and whatever remains of his soul, and he's so turned on he can't _not_ let L do what he's doing.

_Get control of yourself, get control!_

Light can't make himself listen.

* * *

_Get control of yourself, get control!_

L's body doesn't listen.

Instead, L's body is obstructive and wayward. It doesn't want to obey his brain; what it wants to do is shove Light Yagami against the cool wall and press as much of itself against him as possible. It wants to suck on Light's tongue, and grope Light under his sweater, and tweak Light's nipples. It wants to hear soft moans in response. Mostly it wants to shove a hand into Light's trousers to find out if Light is as aroused as he is.

The answer is _yes._

L has spent his life inside his head, and possibly he should be analyzing his own behavior and Light's response, but right now there isn't any blood left in his brain. He's running on pure instinct, and maybe that in itself is worthy of examination, but he isn't pausing to analyze anything at the moment. All he knows is there's an electric current running through him, and he's got to do something about it _right now._

L's cock is heavy and uncomfortable in his trousers, so he unbuttons them and pushes them down with one hand, while he fiddles with Light's belt with the other. But curiously he finds Light's hands there already, unzipping himself, shoving his own clothing aside so L can finally, finally feel the slide of skin against skin.

For a moment there is an awkward tug at his wrist: the chain is caught for a moment between them, cold metal burning against his stomach, painfully pinching at hair. L gasps. "Cuffs, key, I—"

"No!" Light pants back at him. "Leave them."

"But they—"

"Don't take them off," Light rasps, "or I'll kill you."

L shivers.

But yes, Light is correct, leave them, leave them, the metal, the shock of connection between them – _it started with the cuffs, didn't it_ , L reflects, _that's when I started to want this_ —

"Come on, come on," Light moans in his ear. "Do it, I want—"

So L reaches between them, feels hot skin and heating metal, wraps the chain around his hand, his hand around their urgent flesh. He's already close, so close – and from the looks of it, so is Light.

When he looks into Light's face, it is wrenched by sensation, yet oddly young and unguarded.

But not innocent.

* * *

Another stroke, and another, and lightning flows down into Light's cock. He sees sparks behind his eyes as he throws his head back against the white tile with a cry and spills over L's hand and his own stomach. L's hand pumps erratically; there is a groan and another spurt of warmth as L comes, too.

Legs weak, Light sags. L slides down to the floor with him. They sprawl there, sated, exhausted. L's shaggy head is heavy against Light's shoulder. There is something comforting about the sensation.

 _What was that?_ Light wonders. He has had sex before. But this, this was…Suddenly he feels uncertain, in a way he has not since he found the notebook. Has L noticed? _Get control of yourself! Has he won? Have I?_

* * *

"Light."

Light turns. L's hair covers his eyes. "What?"

L inhales deeply and turns his spider stare Light's way. "Light-kun…I…I really do hope you're not Kira."

Light Yagami, college student, sociopath, places a benign expression on his face. "That's what I keep telling you."

An enigmatic spider-smile touches L's lips. "Shall we go back downstairs?"

The smell of sex hangs in the air. There is a clink-clink-clink of metal as the chain shifts and rattles between them. But they both know what links them is far stronger than steel, and much, much more dangerous.

* * *


End file.
